leading reviews she knew
little more than the names. And Tarrant's look, so steady, yet so
good-tempered, disturbed her conscience with the fear that he saw
through her. She was coming wretchedly out of this dialogue, in which
she had meant to make a figure.

He changed the subject; was it merely to spare her?

'Shall you go to Teignmouth again this year?'

'I don't know yet. I think not.'

Silence followed. Tarrant, to judge from his face, was absorbed in
pleasant thought; Nancy, on the other hand, felt so ill at ease that she
was on the point of rising, when his voice checked her.

'I have an idea'--he spoke dreamily--'of going to spend next winter in
the Bahamas.'

'Why the Bahamas?'

Speaking with all the carelessness she could command, Nancy shivered a
little. Spite of her 'culture,' she had but the vaguest notion where the
Bahamas were. To betray ignorance would be dreadful. A suspicion awoke
in her that Tarrant, surprised by her seeming familiarity with current
literature, was craftily testing the actual quality of her education.
Upon the shiver followed a glow, and, in fear lest her cheeks would
redden, she grew angry.

He was replying.

'Partly because it is a delightful winter climate; partly because I have
a friend there; partly because the islands are interesting. A man I knew
at Oxford has gone out there, and is likely to stay. His father owns
nearly the whole of an island; and as he's in very bad health, my friend
may soon come into possession. When he does, he's going to astonish the
natives.'

'How?'

A vision of savages flashed before Nancy's mind. She breathed more
freely, thinking the danger past.

'Simply by making a fortune out of an estate that is lying all but
barren. Before the emancipation of the niggers, the Bahamas flourished
wonderfully; now they are fallen to decay, and ruled, so far as I
understand it, by a particularly contemptible crew of native whites, who
ought all to be kicked into the sea. My friend's father is a man of
no energy; he calls himself magistrate, coroner, superintendent of the
customs, and a dozen other things, but seems to have spent his time for
years in lying about, smoking and imbibing. His son, I'm afraid, waits
impatiently for the old man's removal to a better world. He believes
there are immense possibilities of trade.'

Trying hard to recollect her geography, Miss. Lord affected but a slight
interest.

'There's no direct way of getting there,'